The Chronicles of One Blake Safford
by TheMMMG
Summary: Clearly, this is not where she was supposed to be. In a fictional story, surrounded by fictional characters, and masquerading as one of them. When, in fact, she was not. How could she live with them knowing their futures? How would she live with herself knowing she let one of them die? Or worse yet, what would she do, if they ever found out? Eventual Fred/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Blake. Anything that looks somewhat familiar, probably isn't mine. **

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first story! Yay! So, anyway, read it and when you're done, review because I would love to hear what you guys have to say.**

**Just a warning, this story will have aspects of religion in it, and that is going to be one of the conflicts Blake will struggle with, and war scenes because it is the second wizarding war. The T rating is mainly because of that, and in case I happen to write something particularly graphic that isn't fit for a K rating. **

**Also, purely because of my own beliefs, there will be no major cursing in this story, although there probably will be the minor British curse words (that I don't think are curse words because I am not British). **

**This also brings me to my next point that I am indeed not British. So, pardon my American lingo and social norms. If I happen to get anything wrong, whether it be British-related or Harry Potter-related or just my writing sucks, please don't hesitate to correct me. I love to learn more about both and I can only get better. **

**If, by chance, my story offends anyone for any reason, I'm terribly sorry, but maybe you shouldn't read this. **

**On that note, please enjoy the story.**

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The Chronicles of One Blake Safford

{1}

I would imagine it felt a bit like apparating, being sucked into a too-small tube and feeling like your brain will explode. The next thing I knew I was falling, almost like I had somehow lost my balance and was now falling forward. And when I landed, cracking my head on a very hard surface, I had to close my eyes to keep the nausea from creeping up my throat and the stars from bursting in front of my face. And it hurt, really badly; the sound of my head and the floor colliding echoed around the large room. My eyes flew open. It took a few seconds for the leftover dizziness to go away, and then I could see clearly. And what I saw made my head swirl again.

Directly above me was a ceiling. What's so great about a ceiling? Well, this ceiling was the sky. It wasn't that the ceiling wasn't there, because there was definitely a ceiling; I could see the stone arches and columns that held up the walls, but the ceiling was quite literally a mirror image of the sky. Now, there is only one place, fiction and non-fiction, that has a ceiling like that. And it was most definitely fiction. Being a _Harry Potter_ fan since I first read the series many years ago, and having read all the books multiple times I could probably tell you who sneezed on page 135 in the fourth book, (no one, unless you count crying, but I wouldn't), I thought of Hogwarts the moment I set eyes on that weather ceiling. Coming to this conclusion, I started freaking out. You would too if you thought you were inside a fictional magic school.

Sitting up quickly with my eyes wide open, I silently begged my splitting headache to leave so that my mind would clear. Looking to my right, I saw that I was at the front of a very large hall. A room with four tables; four very long, wooden tables. Four tables for four houses. The drapes hanging from the stone arches, from right to left, were red, blue, yellow, and green; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. There were large glass windows stretching up to the ceiling, and long walls made of stone with a huge entryway at the end of the middle aisle that ran from the front of the hall to the back between the tables.

Within seconds of sitting up I was starting toward the doors, suddenly acutely aware of my short, five feet five-inch tall, legs. The doors were huge, and locked. I turned huffing and saw close to 50 adults sitting at a long table at the very front of the hall; all staring at me with food in front of them.

I saw Dumbledore; silvery, long hair, half-moon spectacles, robes, hat, everything that I could see from a distance. Everything perfectly described in the books. I saw McGonagall, glasses, bun and all, Snape, whose hair was really greasy (thank goodness Alan Rickman didn't have hair like that!) Trelawny, who had eyes that resembled an insect's, Hagrid, of course, Flitwick who was very short, Sprout, who I realized a little later was covered in dirt and patches, and others that I had heard of from the books.

I hadn't realize that while I was having this epiphany I was slowly walking toward them. I stepped up to Dumbledore, and his eyes twinkled, twinkled! I reached out a finger and moved to poke him, just to make sure, you know, that he wasn't a wax figure or something. Then he frowned and moved his head out of the way; probably a knee-jerk reaction, but it scared the wits out of me. I jumped back, realizing he was alive, and started shrieking, because fictional characters don't usually appear out of nowhere, alive and sitting down for lunch right in front of you.

I was too busy freaking out to notice the stairs leading up to the table, and fell down those few stairs, landing, once again, on the stone floor and banging my head on the ground, which knocked some sense into me. I rubbed the back of my head, muttering a small "Ow" as the professors, well, most of them stood up and peered over the table at me. I suddenly realized that I was wearing winter pajama pants, a thin black turtleneck, a sweatshirt, and the fuzzy, purple socks I got from my cousin last Christmas. Which was awesome, really spectacular.

"My dear," Dumbledore said, looking politely curious. "Are you okay?" I sat there for a moment, temporarily stunned. And then I realized that I hadn't answered, and decided I should probably say something. "I'm-", my voice cracked, so I cleared it and spoke louder. "I'm alright." I shifted so I was sitting, and not lying on my elbows. "I've certainly been better." I added mostly to myself. He heard me anyways. He raised his eyebrows. "Indeed." His accent showed a bit more as he said this. They probably heard mine; after all, I was from the USA. "Would you be so kind as to tell us who you are and how you came to be here?" he asked nicely. I nodded. "Right, well, um, I'm Blake…Safford, I'm 16 years old, and I have absolutely no idea how I got here." I finished with a small smile, looking at the floor, embarrassed.

"Sir, it is obvious that she is lying, as she cannot look at your face while she is speaking to you. That is a clear sign of dishonesty." A low, sneering voice spoke up. I looked to see Snape standing, looking at Dumbledore and then glancing at me, sneering when he saw that I was looking. "Actually," I said louder. "I'm just embarrassed to be standing in front of sophisticated professors wearing my P.J.'s and fuzzy socks." I said in a deadpan voice trying to match his…and failing miserably. He scowled in return. Not wanting to seem submissive, I looked in his eyes as he started me down. His eyes were dark and black, kinda like a doll's eyes, all dark and lifeless-like. This would probably scare a lot of people, me included, if I hadn't already known his life story. By this time I realized that he was skilled in legilimency and was most likely reading my thoughts, so I started staring at his eyebrows instead. I wondered if he would notice the small change in my eye direction, probably. He was a spy after all. His facial features pulled together even more and I knew that he had noticed. I turned and looked at Dumbledore again, who was watching us with a curious expression, but stopped when he saw me watching him.

He smiled again, "It is very lovely to meet you Miss. Safford. My name is Professor Dumbledore, and these are my colleagues." He said motioning to the people around him. I looked at up and down the table with a smile and a nod, acknowledging them. Of course I already knew who he and most of the others were, but he didn't need to know that just yet. "Likewise." I replied. Snape scoffed. I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. He looked at little taken back, but then he just sneered again. I rolled my eyes, as a non-respective gesture and turned back to Dumbledore formally. "Um, do you think I could speak to you privately?" I asked him politely. I turned to the teachers thinking of something. "Not that I don't trust you guys, it's just…um…" Oh, how do I finish that sentence. Dumbledore seemed to understand what I was saying. "Certainly my dear," he said answering my question. "Would it be alright with you if I were to bring a fair few with me?" he asked. I thought of the only two people he would even consider including in something this big. "Two." I answered. He nodded to McGonagall and Snape. Who called it? They walked around the table and stood to wait for Dumbledore, who was talking to the rest of the staff in a hushed voice. Of course, no one would want a mysterious stranger to overhear the conversation, even though she knows everything about your future.

I followed Dumbledore and McGonagall down the hallways, Snape walked slightly behind me. It was starting to creep me out. I kept glancing over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows at him. He just glared at me, which was just a friendly gesture, I'm sure.

We walked up to the gargoyle that was the entrance to Dumbledore's study, which was uglier than I thought it would be. Dumbledore whispered the password so I couldn't hear it and led us to the door. Inside he gestured to three chairs in front of his desk that most certainly weren't there before. McGonagall sat on the one on the far left, leaving me and Snape to sit next to each other, much to his displeasure. He sneered at me, but sat anyways.

"I would like to apologize for my attire, but as you know, I was not expecting to be anywhere today." I said as I sat down. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Not at all Miss. Safford." It was really weird hearing him say my name. I smiled. In my peripherals I saw Snape scowl. I rolled my eyes, and his widened; he had noticed no doubt. Dumbledore looked about ready to laugh. "Why don't you tell us why you requested to speak privately Miss. Safford?" he asked smiling.

"Well, you should probably know, and this is going to come as a shock, but I'm just going to spit it out." I took a deep breath. "I'm from a different world, at least I think am." I watched as their expressions slowly turned from looks of concentration to looks of pure bafflement. "See, in my world, you are all fictional characters in a book series." Their expressions were hilarious now. Snape, of course, scoffed, but before he could say anything, McGonagall beat him to it. "What do you mean, 'a book series'?" I sighed. Okay, I told myself. Give them everything but the future plot, that should be okay. "In the year 1997," their eyes grew wide, well, wider. "A fantasy fictional novel came out by the author, J.K. Rowling." I raised my hand to stop their questions, because they looked about to burst. "Please, don't interrupt, just wait until I'm finished." Dumbledore looked a little pitiful, which was hilarious, but he smiled and nodded, allowing my to continue. "Rowling had first gotten her ideas while riding for hours on a train. Throughout the years 1990 through 1993, Rowling wrote her story's manuscript. In 1996, Rowling sent the first three chapters to her agent, hoping to get lucky. He loved it, asking for the complete manuscript. After finding a publisher willing to publish her story, her fantasy novel was published. When the book hit the shelves, everyone loved it. The book stayed popular for more than a decade. People adored it. So she wrote another, and another, and another, until, by 2007, she had written seven books and had finished the series. After the third book was published, they started making the books into movies." Dumbledore and McGonagall confused so I explained. "Which are, basically, a bunch of colored, moving pictures put together to tell a story. If a book gets made into a movie, it's a big deal."

"Anyways, they continued to make movies, and the book series was still a hit. Rowling became one of the richest people in the world, and one of the most famous. The British author was a billionaire. This is a true story." I took another breath. "This book series was called, as you're wondering I'm sure, Harry Potter." Snape was about to comment, but I cut him off, he didn't really like that. "Each book coming with a different title: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and so on and so forth. Each book telling about each of his years at school and the fight against Voldemort." Everyone had either their eyebrows rose in surprise or in a scoffing, disbelieving look. *Cough*Snape*Cough*

"You don't believe me." it wasn't a question. "Go ahead, as me anything. I've read each book multiple times." Humoring me, Snape asked a totally random question that I would be least likely to answer, had I been from his world. "What's my mother's maiden name?" Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at him in shock. "Prince." I replied, completely confident. Now all of them looked at me in shock. "H-How did you…?" Snape asked. I smirked, "I know a lot, Half-Blood Prince." He made a funny sound in the back of his throat. "Half-Blood what?" McGonagall asked. Watching the color drained from Snape's face, I smirked. Then his eyes narrowed, "So, you want us to believe that you came from a world, where we're characters in a fictional story?"

"As ridiculous as it sounds, yes that's exactly what I want you to believe, that's what I'm asking you to believe." They still looked skeptical. "May I ask what year it is?" Dumbledore didn't seem at all surprised by this question, "1994" So, Harry will be going into his fourth year, The Triwizard Tournament would be starting, Voldemort comes back, and he starts liking Cho. Wonderful. And even better, "I'm not even born yet." "Pardon?" McGonagall asked raising an eyebrow. The teachers all looked at each other. "When were you born my dear?" Dumbledore asked. "December 15, 1994."

"That would make you-" "16. Almost 17." "What year is it where you come from?" "2011." Their eyes widened. "That's –" "Impossible." Snape said, interrupting McGonagall. "It's impossible, you have to be lying." I rolled my eyes, of course. "Yeah, okay. Non-believer." I muttered. He just glared at me without saying a word.

Dumbledore just sat there, grinning at us the entire time, practically laughing at our banter, well mostly my banter while Snape played Debbie Downer. I just shook my head at Snape and turned back to Dumbledore. "So, Professor, what am I supposed to do to get home?" He frowned, obviously not thinking of that. "I am not sure. I have never heard of this kind of situation." That's fantastic. "For the time being we'll just have to enroll you into Hogwarts, so that you may be close at hand while we find a solution." This basically meant that Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on me.

"Sir, I'm not a witch. I'm a muggle, like non-magical. I can't do magic. Is anyone else seeing the problem here?" I asked, slightly stressed out and very confused. Professors McGonagall and Snape apparently had no idea what Dumbledore was up to either. "My dear, you are at Hogwarts now. It is impossible for a muggle to see this castle, so, therefore, you must be a witch." That made sense…I guess.

"So you're saying that because I can see Hogwarts, not as a deserted building with a sign saying 'Keep Out' but as a castle that is actually used as a school for the magical, I'm a witch." Staring at him, trying to understand, vaguely remembering Hermione explaining this to Ron and Harry in the fourth book. Dumbledore nodded, "Essentially, yes." I nodded, slightly shocked. "But wait, couldn't I also be a squib? I mean Filch isn't a wizard, yet he can see the castle" McGonagall frown, obviously understanding what I was saying.

"Don't you think we should test it out or something first?" I asked, thinking that there was no possible way I could be a witch. "Isn't there a possibility that I could be a squib? I mean, look at Filch, he's a squib and yet he is able to see Hogwarts"

"Although you do make an excellent point, I do not believe that this is the case. However, we may try if that is what you wish." Dumbledore replied taking out his wand and holding it out for me to take. Slowing I reach out and took that wand, holding it lightly in my hand. It was light-colored, almost white, with soft ridges running along the wand. The handle had a curve that molded to you palm, probably to make it easier to hold and more comfortable. It didn't have any type of reaction to my touch, but I couldn't decide if that was because it hadn't chosen me, or because I wasn't magical. "Give it a wave, my dear." A soft voice came from the side. As a response, I waved the wand. The result was immediate, the little crystal figurine sitting on Dumbledore's desk shattered, having a similar reaction to that of a champagne flute shattering due to a high frequency. Needless-to-say, I put the wand on the desk pretty quickly after that.

There was a short moment of awkward silence, as Dumbledore smiled at me with a smug "I told you so" grin, and I sat staring at the table while the rest of the professors sat uncomfortably off to the side.

"Well," I said clapping my hands together, and breaking the silence. "That's fantastic, now instead of going home, I can wave around a magic stick and pretend that my whole life previous to this never existed!" Of course saying this put things into perspective for me. My whole life previous to this moment had gone, and I had no idea how to get back to it. Everything that had ever mattered to me: my family, my friends, my school, my church. Everything was gone. That really sucked.

When I looked up, Dumbledore and McGonagall had looks of pity on their faces, wonderful. Snape looked the same as ever, no sympathy there – not that I had expected any. "So," I said shaking my head and getting rid of my pessimistic feelings. After all, this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I was not going to waste it, no sir. "I'm off to Hogwarts then. What is the date, may I ask?" Snape being the only one, not shocked by my change of attitude answered, "22nd of June." In his usual sneering voice. I nodded to show I heard him, but my mind was far past that. If it was the summer before Harry's fourth year, Voldemort wasn't 'back' yet, which meant that the Wizarding World was not yet in mortal peril. Harry was still thirteen and hasn't gone to the World Cup yet. He probably wasn't even at The Weasley's yet. This could give me time. I also needed to figure out what I was supposed to tell people. Those that were in the Order, or will be in the Order, seeing as it was still disbanded, can know the truth, but only them. If someone else found out that I knew the future, their future, this whole world could come crashing down. So telling anyone was out of the picture, and absolutely no changing the future!

"No one can know that I know the future, or that in my world you all are in a fictional book, okay?" I said suddenly, well, suddenly for them. They all looked shocked for a second, not expecting me to shout at them out of nowhere. Snape didn't, but that isn't new. Dumbledore nodded breaking the silence. "Yes, I think that would be the best."

"Well, you can tell some people, like Arthur and Molly, maybe Bill, Remus, Sirius and Moody, possible Tonks, but not a lot of people. We should try to keep it to ourselves." I said, mostly to myself, but the professors nodded along with me. Only McGonagall showed surprise that I knew who these people were. "You could probably tell Professors Flitwick and Sprout, but no one else. The "kids" can't know. Everyone should just assume that I'm some random exchange student from I don't know, The Salem Witches' Institute or something like that." Dumbledore nodded along with that too.

"Yes, that would be a good cover. This way, you will be able to tell people your backstory without giving away something you shouldn't."

"Yeah, but I have to make sure not to say anything from the books. Plus, this way, I have an excuse for already knowing about the wizarding world." Then I got an idea. "I could also say that I'm a half-blood or muggleborn to cover my muggle knowledge."

"Yes, yes, that would work very well I think." Dumbledore said smiling.

"But," I thought, still mostly talking to myself. "Why am I transferring? Why so late? And on such short notice?"

"Ah yes." Frowning, Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and peered over his glasses. "I believe it is best if everyone were to assume that your family is dead, so one would not look into it. Agreed?"

Although, I didn't like the idea of pretending that everyone I knew was dead, I figured it was probably the best solution for the issue. That way I could stop the conversation if it were teetering on the edge of uncontrollable. After all, no one wants to upset the new girl, especially if her family died. Besides, it's not as if anyone would have to know right off the bat. Yes, this was a good plan. So, I nodded.

Dumbledore beamed, "Yes! Excellent! Now how about we get you settled? Hmm?" I smiled before I realized something that could put a big dent in these plans.

"Um…professor?"

"Yes?"

"I don't have any clothes, or money…" I drifted off implying the 'etcetera, etcetera' But he didn't even blink, "Oh don't worry about that, I will have everything taken care of." He said, eyes twinkling and everything.

"But, sir," I asked again. "I don't have a place to stay, and I don't have any school supplies." Did anyone else see this major issue? McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow, so obviously I wasn't the only curious one. Snape, of course, was impassive. Dumbledore just smiled.

"I will arrange for you to stay with a family in the order, and I will give you the necessary amount to buy anything you might need." Excuse me? Free money? "Oh, no, Professor I couldn't. I can find a job and-"

"It is final Miss Safford. Merlin knows I have too much for my own good." He smiled down at me.

"But Professor, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?" I asked, dubious. "No second thoughts at all? I mean, I am a teenage girl; I could really put a dent in your savings."

He just smiled. "Please do Miss Safford."

"Are you positively sure? I could get the money-"

"Miss Safford, please."

"Sorry sir." Snape rolled his eyes; Dumbledore smiled.

"Now, about those living arrangements."

"Sir?" I asked, thinking of Harry. "Could I be close to Harry? You know, to just look out…" How do you finish that sentence?

"Of course Miss Safford. I think that it would be best, in fact I have just the place, that is if they agree, then everything will be set." Dumbledore walked promptly over to Fawkes, who was sitting on his perch mimicking sleep, and whispered something to him. And with that, Fawkes was gone in a flash.

Dumbledore walked back to his desk and sat down, while having three pairs of eyes watching him. I couldn't understand how he could trust me so quickly, legilimency maybe, or just a gut feeling? It was confusing me. Snape, obviously, didn't trust me, but he hardly trusted anyone. But even McGonagall was wary.

While I musing, there was a knock on the door. Everyone turned and watched as Dumbledore called them in. My breath caught. Arthur Weasley, in the flesh, walked in followed by his wife. Never in all of my life did I think I would be meeting them, well any of them, ever, it was incomprehensible. They were complete replicas of the characters J.K. Rowling created; exact descriptions coming to life. Arthur: tall, balding, and red-headed, with Molly: plump, brown-eyed, also with red hair, although it was more auburn than Arthur's. They walked in curious, with wary expressions, and when they saw all of us sitting there, they stopped in the doorway.

"Albus, what is this about?" Molly asked. I almost died. How can this be real? "My dear Molly, it seems as if we have a visitor from an entirely other world." Their eyes flickered to me. "Hi." I said meekly. Their eyes flickered back to Dumbledore. "Please explain." Albus gestured for them to sit down in newly appearing chairs, as he began to tell my tale.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review so I know whether or not I should continue writing or if I should just give up on the whole institution. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey (anybody who reads this), so I decided to have one more go, even though I haven't gotten any reviews :(**

**But here's a new chapter simply because I have nothing better to do with my life. Also, I know this chapter is short, but it's mostly just to set up the story. The next few chapters will probably be like that. **

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything recognizable. I only own Blake at the moment. **

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{2}

While Dumbledore explained everything, starting from my appearance in the Great Hall till now, I sat awkwardly and stared at my feet, occasionally looking up to see their expressions, which didn't change very much. They were mostly shocked to say the least, which isn't surprising considering the circumstances. By the end of the explanation Arthur was looking at me, eyes wide and round.

"Are you really from another world? One where we are in books? Muggle books?" He asked excitedly. I grinned. He was awesome, I mean really, one of a kind. "Yes." I answered. Arthur seemed to be okay with this answer, or perhaps it was Dumbledore's confidence in me that he was okay with. However, Molly seemed to still be suspicious of me, as she was eyeing me with raised eyebrows and that look that makes you want to shift in your seat even though you've done nothing wrong.

"Maybe you could convince them Miss. Safford." Dumbledore suggested. That probably was a good idea. "Okay…well…you live in a place called the Burrow. You also have a clock in your house that shows you where your family is at all times. You, Molly, had two twin brothers who were pranksters and were also in the Order of the Phoenix. You also have an Aunt Muriel, but I think she was Arthur's aunt…" I trailed off as I watched their faces. Then all the sudden, Molly shot forward and caught me in a hug. "Um…wow." I muttered, trying to catch my breath as she squeezed the air out of my lungs. "Hi?" I said to her as I hugged her back awkwardly. She didn't seem to notice.

"Oh you poor thing. Being away from everyone you know. You must be devastated." She said gripping me tightly. Leaning away, she smiled, teary-eyed at me. "Oh Arthur can you imagine, being dropped into another world? How horrible…" She cried as she hugged me again. Arthur blinked, shocked. "…Yes Molly…of course dear, how hor-" "And with nothing except the clothes on your back…Are you hungry dear? Let's get you home and get you something to eat. You look a bit peaky, but I'm sure we can fix that up right away." She said, smiling and gripping my hand. She turned away, not waiting for me to answer her. "She is coming with us, is she not? Of course she is, you wouldn't bring us here if it wasn't the case." Still shocked by the strong reaction I mumbled thanks but Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear of it. Instead, she waved me off and started pushing me through the door, but not before I made it clear to Dumbledore that I wasn't done talking to him and that I would be in touch.

The whole way to the front gate I was interrogated. About little things that were easy and uncomplicated to answer, such as what my favorite color was, how airplanes stayed up, and so on and so forth. When we made passed Hogwart's grounds, we apparated. Like I said before, it was an unpleasant experience. Imagine being stuffed down a tube too small for an elf to fit in, trampled by a stampede of buffalo, have your atoms ripped apart and then reconstructed in a swirl of twisted color, and then spat back out of that same tube that was too small to begin with. Yeah, it was that bad. In fact, I think I should have gotten a metal for not puking my guts out when I was finally back on solid ground. Although, I have to say, it wasn't nearly as bad as the trip into _Harry Potter _was, that trip was horrible. I'm just glad I was too distracted by the fact I was inside a fictional novel to notice my nausea. No such luck this time.

"Sorry, I probably should have warned you. Apparation does take some getting used to." Arthur said with a look of pity and concern on his face. Weakly, I smiled. "It's alright, I already knew something about it. Although, it was quite different from what I expected." He just smiled, and we continued down the path after Mrs. Weasley.

The path wound around a bend with shrubs growing on either side. On the other side of the bend, and twisted house came into view. It was just how I imagined the Burrow would look like, it looked like a bunch of colorful boxes were stacked on top of each other in various ways, and then glued. Their yard was full of crazy flowers and overgrown bushes and gnarled trees. When I commented on how awesome their house was, Molly beamed, and Arthur's ears turned red. It reminded me of Ron, and I loved it.

As we were about to open the doors to their house, they both stopped and turned to me. "You may want to brace yourself" Molly warned, and without another word, pushed open the door.

The house was small; cramped and cluttered, but never-the-less, homey. It gave off the feeling of a home that had been lived in, and not one that was neat and tidy and cold. I immediately understood Harry's attraction to the house. Looking around, I could see wizarding pictures hanging on the walls, and over the mantle of the fireplace, next to a collection of books and a pot of Floo-Powder. Their famous clock ticked away on the side wall of the entrance, clearly visible from the kitchen, which could be seen from the through the hallway that separated the kitchen and family room. Crooked stairs merged from the hallway across from the front door, leading to the upstairs. The side door, the one we came in through, opened into the kitchen. The walls were covered with various shelves and cabinets full of ingredients and spices. An elongated table was shoved to the side and was cluttered with a variety of chairs. Pots and pans washed themselves in the sink, while a broom swept the floor.

After gazing at the ground floor of the house in obvious awe, I realized that the boisterous noises of fighting siblings echoed around the house. Mr. Weasley was giving me a sympathetic glance, but I just giggled. Of course you couldn't hear me because the Weasley children were being so loud. Doors were slamming, and someone was telling someone else to 'Shut up!', and the twins could be heard giving a snarky retort back. (I could tell it was the twins because they were finishing each other's sentences). And then of course, there was the general screaming, both male and female.

Just then a man, a good-looking man, around twenty or so, strolled down the stairs like nothing was going on, totally at ease. Judging by his tall stature, long hair, leather boots and fang earing, I guessed it was Bill. "Bill!" Mr. Weasley shouted over the noise, "What-"

"They started about half an hour ago, I eventually gave up!" He shouted back. Molly's face became gradually redder until she finally marched upstairs without a single word to anyone in the room. The three of us watched as she braced herself at the foot of the stairs like she was marching into battle, which, I guess, she was. When Bill turned back to us, he finally noticed me standing there. "Oh!" He said surprised. "Hi!" Figuring he wouldn't hear me over the noise, I waved. He turned to say something to Arthur but his words were drowned out by the sound of Molly screaming at her kids. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" Molly yelled at the top of her voice. Bill and Mr. Weasley both cringed, and I could only imagine what the rest of them were like. "NO, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! I DON'T THINK I HAVE EVER BEEN SO EMBARRASSED IN MY LIFE! WE HAVE A GUEST DOWNSTAIRS, AND YOU FIVE ARE UP HERE SCREAMING ABOUT MERLIN KNOWS WHAT! NOW YOU ARE GOING TO MARCH DOWNSTAIRS AND GREET OUR GUEST OR SO HELP ME, I WILL WHIP YOU SO HARD YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO WALK STRAIGHT! AM I UNDERSTOOD?!" I was suddenly reminded of my own mother, who would reprimand the same way, except she wouldn't scream. Instead, she would talk in a low deadly voice, so no one but you could hear her. It was terrifying, but I suppose all mothers have that special ability.

Mr. Weasley turned to me, his face red once again. "Why don't we go into the sitting room?" He said with a meek smile. "Grand idea!" Bill answered with gusto. So, in a single line we trotted off into the sitting room.

Their walls were covered with faded stripped paper, and their couch was rather lumpy, but all in all their sitting room was a lot like the rest of the ground floor; cozy.

The first Weasley that came bounding down the stairs after Molly, was Ron. With a large nose, and gangly limbs that he hadn't yet grown into, and freckles that covered every inch of his face. And of course red hair. He slid into the sitting room with a curious look, and immediately found me sitting there between Mr and Mrs Weasley. I smiled and nodded at him in greeting, making him blushed and turn away, but then he nodded back, almost shyly. Shuffling awkwardly towards a free seat, he sat gingerly and eyeing me and his parents.

The next Weasley to make it down was Ginny. She showed up with a grimace on her face, but quickly replaced it with a smile as soon as she saw me. Although, I could tell she didn't totally trust me just yet. Of course that's completely understandable seeing as I am a stranger who randomly shows up out of nowhere. However, she did make a point to sit close to where I was, so that must be something right?

Percy came down the stairs next, followed closely by the twins who didn't seem to want to leave him alone. Who can really blame them though? He walked right into the room with a snobbish look on his face, although that might be because the twins were bugging him. The twins on the other hand walked in with wide smirks, but they quickly faded when they saw me sitting there. Instead extreme curiosity came over their features.

So the six Weasley children got comfortable and then looked expectantly at me, which was incredibly awkward, since I didn't have a clue what to say. So naturally, I cleared my throat and said "Hi". Little good that did, as they still didn't stop staring, nor did they say anything. Just then Arthur, my savior, cleared his throat and took over for me.

He explained how I was from America and that I was transferring to Hogwarts for the next couple of years, and that I would be staying with them. He also mentioned how he expected all of them to make me feel welcome, etcetera etcetera. I have never felt more pretentious in my entire life. I think it was the fact that everyone was looking at _me_, and that everything that was being done, the cover-up, was for _my_ benefit, that was making me feel exceedingly guilty. Especially because I couldn't tell them any of it…or at least all of it.

By the time, the introduction scene was over, complete with "hello"s and "how are you"s, everybody seemed to be alright with the fact that there was going to be a total stranger living in the same house with them. It was also around that time that I realized that Charlie wasn't there. So, naturally curious about where he might be, but not wanting to give away my knowledge to the 'kids' I asked Arthur and Molly, "I thought you guys had seven children?". Arthur smiled warmly at me, probably knowing what I was asking, and answered, "Yes, our second eldest, Charlie, is a Dragon Handler in Romania. He is actually going to be joining us tomorrow". For the Quidditch World Cup I reasoned. Oddly coincidental that I happened to drop into the story right when everything was starting to come to a climax, and when all the Weasley's were getting together. Although, I supposed, maybe it wasn't such a coincidence after all.

Charlie Weasley, it turned out, was an exceedingly interesting character. Although covered with blistering burns, Charlie was not hard-hearted or gruff as one might believe at first sight. In fact he was just the opposite. Charlie Weasley, it turned out, was the most warm-hearted, good-natured, all around great guy, that I had ever met. And that was saying something. He was like an older, more mature version of Ron. Except for the fact that he resembled the twins, with his stocky build and cropped hair cut. To sum it up, Charlie Weasley was hot for a ginger.

After meeting each other and carrying along with the family greetings, Charlie's things were put with Bill's in their old room, and Mrs. Weasley had put us to work. The house, she said, was to be cleaned before Hermione and Harry arrived. I guessed she had wanted it to be cleaned before any guests arrive, but seeing as I was unexpected, that option was out of the question. So I was put to work with the rest of the Weasley gang. "I bet you wished you had come a month later huh?" Ron muttered to me as we were folding laundry in the living room. "Nah," I murmured back with a slight smile, "I don't mind so much. Besides, I like hangin' with you…you're funny" I chuckled when his ears started turning red, and went back to folding somebody's frayed pants.

In order to get to know the Weasleys as people and not characters in a fictional novel, I had definitely been laying on the charm, thick. So what? I wanted them to like me. So far, I think I had their approval. Even though, Percy still doesn't trust me, which I don't blame him for, Fred finds me annoying, which I guess is because George and I have been around each other a lot doing chore work, and Ron doesn't quite know what to think of me, which I don't mind so much. But other than that, everyone else seems to have taken my arrival in stride.

I have to say though, the awkward looks at the dinner table every night are starting to get on my nerves.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Blake. Anything that looks somewhat familiar, probably isn't mine.**

**Author's Note: Sorry this is so late guys (for anyone that cares), life caught up to me and suddenly it was Thanksgiving and there was family and cleaning house and then finals and yeah. So, here's the new chapter. It's not as long as I would have liked but I'll work on that. :)**

**Happy Reading.**

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{3}

I had arrived in the wonderful world of Harry Potter on June 22, 1994. In case any of you were wondering, this turned out to be a Wednesday. Which meant that I had two months before Harry and Hermione would arrive for the start of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup, which would begin Monday the 25th of August 1994. This put me in a difficult position because I had to somehow learn six years of magic and magical culture, buy a whole new wardrobe, and find a church for Sundays all in just two months. As it turns out, there really aren't very many options for churches in England when you live in Ottery St. Catchpole and have no means of transportation. The fact that I didn't have a wand yet didn't help either.

The first thing I did, which happen the next morning around 7 a.m., was to go into town. At my 'old' school, (the one I went to in America) I was on the cross-country team. I lived in a small town out in western Kansas, but we still had the basic sports, and I don't know, running just did it for me. I guess I never really needed a ball and a court, all I needed were a pair of old sneakers. So that's how I found myself, wearing a makeshift jogging outfit that consisted of borrowed belongings from Ginny, running into town while the rest of the house was still asleep.

The town of Ottery St. Catchpole was quaint, to put it simply. To get there from the Burrow, you had to travel down the same narrow dirt road we had apparated onto just yesterday, across a short bridge over a creek, and make your way to the paved road that led into town. Every once in a while you would pass a house or two, but once you finally got into town, it was just like every other town you would find in the English countryside: stacked buildings made of stone or brick, sidewalks, and cars parked along the street, with neighborhoods around every corner.

The Ottery St. Catchpole Library was an old building about a block or two away from the Ottery Healthstore which was at the entrance of the town from the south, where I came in from, and it took me about a half-hour later than it should have for me to find it. Although, in my defense, English towns are incredibly hard to navigate…they like to pack everything in and make really windy streets.

The air-conditioning was a welcomed relief from the summer heat that had crept up on me with surprising ferocity for 9 o'clock in the morning. I managed to find the computers with the least amount of awkwardness on my part, and plopped down on the chair. The computer, a seriously ancient thing that resembled a cube more than a computer, took forever to boot up, but considering it was 1994, I really shouldn't have been surprised. By the time I was able to get the search engine running, I had wasted at least twenty minutes. There were, it turns out, many churches in England. However, none of them seemed to be my particular denomination.

I had grown up in the Church of Christ, a type congregation of churches that follow the word of God, believe in one cup and one loaf, and never have instruments in the service. I had grown up Christian my whole life, and to me, it isn't a religion, it's a way of life. So, naturally, this would be very important to me. In other words, I needed to find a church…quickly.

There were exactly two Church of Christ congregations that I could find within the one hour search time slot I gave myself. Unfortunately, these two churches were both around four hours away from the Burrow. So either, I had to wake up super early to make it to church in time, or I had to find a way to take the Knight Bus.

This posted another problem for me, hopefully one that could be solved easier and sooner and would get me closer to the Knight Bus. This problem was called: a wand. See to hail the bus, one must flag it by using their wand arm. However, as of yet, I had no wand. So, rather than assume that I could hail the bus by using my dominant hand, I was going to go on the safe side and go to town, literally.

That night after dinner I made my way to the kitchen while Mrs. Weasley was cleaning things up to ask her about going to Diagon Alley.

"Well sweetie," She replied while setting the dishes aside. "I could send someone to go to Diagon Alley with you tomorrow. I would hate to have you go by yourself. Someone your age shouldn't be out all alone." She continued to bustle around the kitchen, seemingly content with having me wait for her conclusion. Suddenly, she turned to me with a beaming smile on her face. "Oh! Bill could take you! I know that he's been wanting to go to Diagon Alley for a while now, something about checking with the Goblins, and it would be the perfect opportunity! I'm sure you understand how hard it is for us to get out at a time like this."

I honestly didn't know how hard it was, of course I didn't really clean anything when my closest friends came over, they ended up making themselves at home anyways. Mrs. Weasley seemed to have different views about that.

So after asking Bill if he would be so kind as to join me (and him agreeing, turns out he did really have to go into town) I was able to sleep happy.

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The next morning we set off, with myself fingering the loaned key Dumbledore had given me and walking away wearing elongated borrowed Ginny-wear. Clothing shopping was definitely on the agenda for today.

Bill and I had talked on the way to the apparation point and decided on what was going to get done today. Clothing shopping, wand waving, and toiletries buying were the essentials.

Apparation was as horrible as ever, and I'm pretty sure I threw up a little. Looking up, I realized that we apparated to The Leaky Cauldron. That's when I started getting super excited again, not that I wasn't already, but the past few days has been a big hazy mess. I honestly wasn't sure whether I was asleep or alive. But the prospect of seeing Diagon Alley for the first time made my heart beat faster and my palms sweat. Bill kept looking at me and giving me smug grins, but I didn't care because I was in THE Diagon Alley. "What do ya think?" he asked as we passed by The Apothecary. "It's more than I imagined" I answered. He seemed pleased with this answer and continued down the path toward the bank, explaining to me as we went, the way to go about handling Goblins. Don't be sarcastic, don't be rude, let Bill do the talking, God forbid you ask to go the bathroom, etcetera, etcetera.

The bank itself was extraordinary. It was slightly lopsided, but other than that it was magnificent. It had strong marble columns going down the great hall, with marbled titled floors, and a large arched ceiling. Throughout the great hall there were Goblins mingling about their business. None of them would look up as humans and other various creatures would pass them by. We went toward the bookkeeper at the end of the hall next to other hall that lead to the offices. A grumpy looking goblin glanced at us and then in a tight grumpy tone asked, "State your business". Bill answered back in a strong voice, "William Weasley here to see Mr. Knokbight for a stasis report." As the book-keeping goblin looked up he scrutinized Bill for a good minute before he replied, "Proceed." Bill turned to me and told me to 'sit in those chairs' and 'wait for him', and that it 'shouldn't take too long'. And then he walked down the hallway of offices. Glancing back at the bookkeeper I noticed that he was glaring at me. So I smiled and waved awkwardly muttering 'sorry' before turning and dashing towards the chairs that were up against the wall.

It was a good ten minutes before Bill returned. He talked with the bookkeeper again before motioning to me. Hopping up, I went over to them quick as I could to keep that grumpy goblin from eating me. "The key" Bill whispered to me. "Oh, here." I said, digging Dumbledore's extra key from my pocket and sliding it onto the podium. The goblin picked it up and took a good hard look at it. "Dumbledore." He said. "Yes sir." I replied ignoring Bill's warning look. The grumpy goblin looked at me, sneering, and muttered something under his breath. Which I thought was very rude, but decided it best not to say anything about it. "Griphook!" he yelled suddenly, making me jump. "Take Ms…" He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"..Safford."

"Take Ms. Safford to the Dumbledore Vault."

The next few hours was a continual cycle of shopping: enter the store, do a quick sweep, get what you need, pay, get out, and then repeat the process. The only three goods things about this shopping trip was: A: Seeing the socially interactive wizarding world for the first time. That was beyond interesting, it was like being in a movie or an alternative reality. B: Shopping with Bill Weasley, who was surprising a hilarious guy. You wouldn't really think it meeting him for the first time, especially with that whole goblin/Gringotts business that went down earlier, but he was a certain kind of quick, sharp, dry wit and humor that I happen to find hilarious. He made shopping for cauldrons funny, and for anyone who has ever shopped for cauldrons would know that is quite a feat. And finally C: buying my owl, who I still haven't found a good name for yet, although I was kind of considering Lester, my grandpa's name. Yeah, you're right, that's not a good name for an owl.

Bill and I were quite the team, zipping through the various stores, and I commend him for putting up with me for as long as he did. Whenever I saw something that caught my eye or that I recognized, I would get excited and start talking about how the object was 'so cool' and how much I had 'always wanted to see it'. He even graciously waiting for me while I looked around Victoria's Secret for a good forty-five minutes before he said that we had to go.

By the time it was time for us to buy my wand, we had purposefully gone into thirty stores and had wandered into at least ten others. Bill had thankfully shrunken all of my purchases, and the few that he had bought, so that they didn't hit us in our faces while we walked.

We were considering names for my new owl-friend when we stopped in front of Ollivander's wand Shop. (Bill wanted to name him 'Albert', who names an owl 'Albert'?). The inside of the shop was musty and had a polished smell. There was an old rickety chair next to the door that Bill seemed to avoid, and an old, yellowing sign in the dusty window that stated, 'Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'.

There was no bell on the door, just a squeak as the hinges rubbed together. It slammed shut rather spectacularly and produced a cloud of dust that circled our feet as we walked inside. You would think that a wand maker would use his wands every once in a while for a bit of spring cleaning.

No one was at the counter when we first walked in. Bill had to cough a few times and send me a reassuring glance before Ollivander even made it past the shelves.

Ollivander was a creepy old man with wild Einstein hair and clear eyes that looked into your soul. His aura was chilling, but not uncomfortable. If you looked past the creepiness of his eyes and overall personality, he was actually a very nice, wise man. Sure he also knew so much about you that it was borderline creepy, but he seemed genuine and kind. Like a grandfather you didn't really know how to deal with and only saw twice a year, or that old pigeon woman from Home Alone 2.

After measuring my arms and legs as well as between my nostrils and the length of my eyebrows, he started handing me wands of different combinations. Dragon Heartstring, 11 inches, sturdy; Unicorn Hair, 8 ¾ inches, pliable, etc. I was down to my 13th wand when Ollivander finally gave a sigh of relief and gave me my wand: Walnut with Unicorn Hair, 10 ¾ inches, reasonably supple.

The feeling of finding a wand that chose you is a feeling that's hard to forget. When you first hold it in your hand and feel a certain warmth that travels into your very soul, as cheesy as that sounds. It's like finding as extension of your own arm; an arm that cost seven galleons. But I guess that just the price you have to pay to be able to do magic.

The last stop we made that day was to Eeylops Owl Emporium & Magical Menagerie for a pet. This door did have a bell, but you could barely hear it over the animal noises. It was like walking into a barn, being suddenly overwhelmed by sounds and smells that were less than pleasant. Immediately Bill directed my towards the back of the store while explaining to me the benefits of certain pets, although it was unnecessary as I had already decided that I was going to get an owl. Owls have always been my favorite animals; owls and elephants. I don't know what it is, but I always liked rounded birds, especially ones that waddle.

I ended up with a male Barred Owl or a Hoot Owl. He was one of the prettiest birds I had ever seen. And I still had no name for him, poor guy. He seemed do be just fine on the way home though.

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The rest of the month, and the month following that, was a whirlwind of learning. Learning how to do magic, learning different spells and potions, learning the names of the people at my new church (which weren't very many), learning my way around the village, learning how to keep out of Fred and George's way, learning especially not to sass Molly Weasley.

A lot of the Weasley kids enjoyed helping me play catch up. Especially the twins, they seem to get a kick out of telling me a spell and letting me find out on my own what it does. Effective, but not appreciated by some in the house.

I found the name for my owl by my nickname for him, well for anyone really: 'nut'. It's usually accompanied by the words 'crazy' or 'stupid', but the meaning is generally the same. And is always spoken with utmost adoration, of course.

Anyway, back to the name. I thought, why not call him 'nut'? But then that would be mean. So instead I decided to call him the latin translation for 'nut': "Nux". Afterall, all spells are based on there latin translations right? It's perfect.

So there you have it. My owl's name was Nux. That poor owl. Well, after I started calling him that, I couldn't change it. He had already accepted his new name. So he was stuck with a name that directly translated meant 'nut'.

That poor owl.

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